


S-S-Sugar

by B_Uthoughtwrong



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Lots of swearing soz, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-07 21:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14089893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Uthoughtwrong/pseuds/B_Uthoughtwrong
Summary: How do you get Bruce Wayne's attention amidst a very busy night?Easy.Get someone else's.





	S-S-Sugar

 

 

> _Me?_

  

 

> _I wasn't doing anything._

* * *

It was another long night filled with politics and dull talk that made my body rust with the boredom and my eyelids fall lower than the plunge of neckline of my dress. I licked my lips slowly and pulled my head off my hand where I propped it on and gave a low, slow breath.

I glanced once more to the grand clock hanging on the expensive wallpapered wall. My brows quirked up at the mockery time had for me. It had been not even five minutes since the last time I looked over my shoulder. I scoffed and began chuckling bitterly, _surely this was all a joke._

I averted my eyes to the sea of people wrapped in fine fabric and genuine jewels, looking in the direction my captor had been moments ago. However, I found him in a different corner of the room amongst different people, displaying that debonair smile with his perfect pearly whites. I scoffed again and rolled my eyes. I've about had it with this. I plunged my manicured nails into my rhinestone bedazzled purse and fished for my phone. I swiped the screen and pressed the keys firmly, with purpose, and sent the message. "Are you _fucking_ finished?"

I kept my eyes locked on his direction until he raised a hand and muttered an excuse, then pulling out his phone. His lips surely tugged up at my endearing choice of words, then soon enough my phone vibrated. "No."

I let out a huff and laugh of disbelief, _"No?_ What the-- I swear to- if he doesn't finish-" but I could not finish my word out of frustration.

 

I looked to the elderly guests around my table who were too tired to stand up but too important to stand up this party. Botox and vitamins can never make youth return. Though, kudos to them, they were sweet in their old age; even the tussling M. Q. Tiffany who built the highest tower and owns the biggest bank in Gotham, who in his prime could make Gotham's scariest mafia big boss pee their pants, showed no sign of bitterness in his sweet, milk colored, wrinkly face. I spoke a quick farewell to the beings on the table and they all gave me sweet smiles and nods.

Once I stood, my confidence tripled, and the moment I walked, the whole room shifted for me.

It was only a matter of time before the invisible cloak the elders of the table had covering me would wear off. The only reason I had no one bothering me was because of them; no one would ever dare go up to the table and bother whoever sat there for it was an unwritten rule to _never_ disturb the higher powers when they're dining.

And as I seat myself by the bar, you may wonder why a mere golden girl, multi-award winning actress like me placed her behind on the silken chairs part of the table I spoke of. How could _I_ sit with the higher powers?

Well, beyond my theatrics and success in film, Gotham envied and riled up by the though of me.

I called the senior bartender, salt coloring his hair, and asked for a glass of water on the rocks. He gave me a smile and nodded, walking off to get my order.

Yes, Gotham envied my non-drinking self for I had the candy it craved oh-so much, tangled in my arm at every award show, gala, and red carpet.

The bartender came back with my drink and I quickly quenched my _first thirst_ with it.

Little ol' me ended up walking, talking, flirting, laughing, occasionally lip-locking with Gotham's favorite billionaire, _Bruce Wayne._

 

I turned back and caught sight of Bruce, he seemed nonchalant about moving onto another conversation with another deep pocketed boot-licker, and showed no signs, none visible at least, of tiresome or boredom. I chuckled and turned away, he was a better actress than I was.

Maybe, _maybe_ it was wrong that I constantly played this game with him. I knew deep down he was _in fact_ tired and bored with everything, but I told him he shouldn't take me to this façade tripping _party._ I told him I would get suffocated by the atmosphere too easily. And yet, he whisked me away-- _kidnapped_ me, to put without the romantics, stuffed me in a car, dumped me in a hotel, and called in professionals to get ready.

I curved the corner of my lip up at the cream colored man across the bar, his chocolate colored hair slicked back, with eyes like cool blue berries, to top off with lips like cherries, sheen with his alcohol. I bit my lower lip, my second thirst has arrived--scratch that, _hunger._

I gave him a look long enough and turned away from him. I took a sip on my drink and swallowed; it was go time.

 

"I believe we've met," a low voice like velvet spoke and along came the handsome man who seated himself beside me.

I turned to him slowly and titled my head to the side, "Do you watch films?" I could tell due to our proximity that he was much more of a looker than I originally thought. I could feel the pull of his primal testosterone driven needs and we haven't even brushed skin together yet.

His pulp lips quirked up to the right and he rasped a chuckle out, "If they're good, I even enjoy them."

I chuckled, "Then I believe, you have just seen one of my films," I turned to him and flipped my hair to the back, letting it brush my exposed skin. "Because if we had, I would've remembered you."

He blushed, he looked away and exposed his rosy red right cheek to me, causing me to laugh and raise my hand to the side of my neck. I fiddled with my thin chain necklace and let out a breath.

"May I buy you a drink?" he spoke after gaining composure.

I pouted my lips out, "Oh, I don't drink." I flashed a smile, "At least not directly," I placed a hand on his shoulder, "maybe you could tell me a way I could do just that."

His ego was through the roof by now, "You know, now that you've mentioned it, I think I have seen your films before." He leaned in, "You're the temptress that breaks hearts and eats them for breakfast."

I threw my head back and laughed. Once I was satified I looked back at him, locking my gaze on his delectable little face, "I think you've mistaken me with Artemis Hart."

"Mmm, no... I think I'd remember you." he spoke lowly and leaned in forward.

 

_It's time for a magic trick._

I gasped and looked down to the floor, "Oh, I think I dropped something." I spoke, faux looking around though I knew exactly what and where I dropped the golden thing I had been fiddling with. My knight in shining armor quickly stood up and looked for whatever it was I dropped. Hazzar, he found my necklace and abruptly crouched down to pick it up.

I gave another gasp, "Oh my goodness, I can't believe I dropped that." I gave a small, bashful smile, "Would it be too much if I asked you to put it on me?"

He smirked and nodded in disagreement, "Not at all."

And so I turned around and scooped my hair up, allowing him to graze the back of his fingers ever so gently across my my skin and secure my jewelry where it once was. Once that was done, I turned around and gave a smile of glee and anticipation, not because my heart was fluttering by the man's acts, but because of what I knew would come next.

 

"What did you say your name was again?" I spoke, grabbing my drink, giving it a light sip if only to have an excuse to lick the cool liquid that would linger on my lips.

My question was a count down, really, because it would usually only take until after he said his last name for the man I _really_ wanted to get attention from to grunt and mentally strangle whoever I was talking to.

The man gave a smirk and took his time breathing in, and that was his fault for, breaking his record, there was a person who walked up beside me and spoke up before the man before me could even dream, "Sweetheart, I've been messaging you for almost half an hour."

"Oh? Has it really been that long?" I spoke breathlessly, with a sigh, in a tone completely uninterested.

The man I was chatting with looked between us for a second and immediately his face faltered into confusion, _"Sweetheart?"_ he whispered, thinking neither of us would hear, but both of us did actually.

The other man grunt, almost in a painful matter, "Yes. It has."

I chuckled and flipped my hair back, knowing I'd hit the face of who was behind me, as I took another sip of my water. After doing such, he grabbed my hand and gently tried to pry me away. I snapped out of his grip and glared, "Leave me alone, Bruce."

I could practically hear his blood boil.

"Listen, if yo--" "Hey, my date said leave her alone."

My brows quirked up at what he said, and I'm damn sure Bruce was more surprised than I was. He scoffed at that, _"Your_ date? _Yours?"_ He chuckled and scoffed some more, "Huh, that's funny, considering she wouldn't be here if I hadn't pushed her out her cave and got her in a dress, which, by the way, you have your eyes happily popping out over."

I bit the inside of my lower lip to hold back a laugh, _should I break them up?_

Bruce roughly pulled me closer to him by the waist, because of this, I got to see his jaw clenched tightly, and just how red he got.

"Listen, I don't know who you think you are but she told you to leave her alone." the other spoke with a stern tone and confidence, rising up to meet the tall man eye to eye.

 _Shit_ okay... maybe I-- "I know _exactly_ who I am." Bruce scoffed, "And I also know _you're_ new to Gotham or your wouldn't have the guts to even _think_ of talking back."

He snickered, "Well, I don't care who you are. If you think you can treat a woman the way you want to just because you're _some **somebody,**_ you got another coming." He stepped closer and I swear I saw a tendon in Bruce snap.

Okay, it was all fun and games but play time's over.

"Bruce," I tugged on his arm and jumped in between them, "that's enough."

He looked past me, "No, no, you wanted a show, right, I'll teach this son of a b--" "Bruce!" I growled, elbowing his stomach. "Honey, I think it's time you left. You see, he really _is_ my date, not the greatest but I have a responsibility over him."

"No! I'm not leaving you with this--" "Just go. He's harmless to me, I can't say the same to you." I spoke, placing a hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away from us. He huffed and knit his brows, marching away with a heavy feeling of annoyance and slight defeat.

"Good _fucking_ riddance." Bruce spat out, sitting on the stool opposite me, the one on my left where the other man had not seated, and called for a round of shots. I raised my upper lip at him and huffed, turning around to leave. However, Bruce caught my wrist and roughly pulled me back, causing me to let out an exaggerated whine, "And where if _fuck's_ name do you  _fucking_ think you're going?"

_"Home."_

He let out a full on laugh. He let me go and took a swig of liquid fire, "After the stunt you pulled, sweet cheeks, you're not leaving my sight at all."

I couldn't help but raise my brows at him and let out an equally amused laugh, "You sure about that?"

He let out a long and angry growl, _"Bitch_ I've never been more _fucking_ sure about anything in my entire _fucking_ life." He then proceeded to bark out hard chuck of laughter.

I pursed my lips, holding back a laugh, crossed my arms and nodded my head as I knit my brows, "Uh... did you really just call me a bitch?" I chuckled lowly, causing him to snap at me, and get even more angry.

"I could literally call you puss ball soup and you'd still like it."

I raised a brow but could not hold it in any longer. I broke out into euphoria of and clenched my chest because I could not conceal my laughter. I felt the corner of my eyes well up. I repeated out of breath, _"Puss-ball-soup?"_ And sat back down on my chair, trying to get a grip on my sanity.

I couldn't; this Bruce Wayne would be the death of me.

"Shut the _fuck_ up." Bruce groaned through a chuckle, trying to drown the sounds of me out by taking another shot. I inhaled sharply and caught his wrist, _"What the hell is wrong with you?!"_ I laughed out as he shook me off.

"What the hell is wrong with _you?"_ he countered with a sigh. I finally quiet down and got to get a good glimpse of him before he sighed and looked my way as well. "Why do you keep doing this to me?"

I raised brow.

"Do you _honestly_ think it's funny?"

"I don't actually; I think it's hilarious." I chuckled out, causing a groan rasp out of him. He fiddled with his empty shot glass and suddenly I felt annoyed, "Why do you care so much anyway, it's not like we're in an actual relationship or something."

 

The truth between the two of us was that one day at a premier of my film held in Gotham, he and I found each other and engaged in a three line conversation. Apparently, "Congratulations on your wonderful film", "Thank you, Mr. Wayne, for thinking it wonderful", and "I think the scooter-turtle dove part was nice" translated into _"Hollywood's Golden Girl & Gotham's Favorite Billionaire Are Together And It's A Match Made In Heaven."_

Bruce and I didn't care much for the news, but when it didn't die down, we thought to just go with it so we could focus on other things in life. So, we went out everywhere together, everyday another scandal. Thinking our outings would turn into just another story after the first few, we were stunned to find the media craved us more than ever.

And now because stupid little me was stupid enough to agree to this stupid proposition, I ended strangled in such boredom I had started poking the Wayne bear's belly.

 

Bruce chuckled and turned to me, ready to retort to my words. I refused to let him speak however, and so I went on ranting about whatever my head was heating up about at the moment. "And what the hell was with your temper? Do you even know how bad it would be if you punched th--" _"Then let's make this real."_

I opened my mouth but closed it as my brows creased up together.

"I'm _fucking_ done seeing you parade yourself around like this, how you're so consciously unattached." He grunt out with nothing but seriousness on his face. With a scoff, Bruce then snagged the thin metal around my neck, breaking it and throwing it away, "And this _fucking_ necklace has to go. I'll get you a damn indestructible one that even if superman fiddles with it, it stays on your _fucking_ neck."

I raised my brows at his progressing potty mouth and held back a laugh.

Bruce caught on however, and I swear his face was practically boiling with anger, "You still think this is funny?"

"Hmm, let see, ah, _yes,_ Bruce Wayne asked me to be his... _girlfriend ? ,_ and is an **extremely** jealous type."

His hand caught the back of my neck and I was swiftly pulled an inch away from his face. He was heaving out heavily in anger, I could hear his heart thumping. "You better _fucking_ believe it, because if I see you sweet talking another low life," he growled and laughed lowly at the mere thought, "It'll be your end."

I laughed out in mockery, "That's lot of guts for someone I haven't even answered yet." Bruce raised a brow, and all at once he slammed his lips on mine. It was an honest surprise our teeth didn't come in contact and that all I could feel was his warmth and tenderness. As we melted against each other in perfection, my hands traveled north from his torso to his cheeks. And when he dug his fingers into my hair and started tugging at the roots, a moan left my lip, causing a chuckle to come out from his.

"I believe," he pulled a fraction away, enough that I could feel the smile he had on my lips, "you are in no _fucking_ position to decline."


End file.
